Eros center
... I took a taxi, I did drop near the Tiergarten-station near the scene of my-conference, it was fine, broad streets, low noise, low pollution Berlin encourage walking, I had no reason to hurry especially since I had not yet decided what I wanted to do. I knew that was played is one of the crucial moments of my existence and that, because I was too old to procrastinate, the seemingly simple decision for me or not to make my lecture the rest of my life would depend. The area is commercial, it was the end of the morning, the area is the most lively people of all ages, all conditions, all races came and went in all directions after each, for reasons unfathomable, their own paths : the crowd where I could lose myself and ignored me, indistinct and indifferent, suited to my mental state. I allowed myself to absorb in its movements, dropped my gaze to the most mundane events: a red beret mother crossing the street, on a pram, a girl in a green beret, a junkie sprawled on a bench at the subway exit, a band of punks crested red, nose rings, grouped around a miserable dog and giving him the cans on the sidewalk for blocks, a flock of pigeons continued on the spot by a black girl and a couple of obese Americans consulting a map of Berlin; ordinary life ...
I could forget everything and to do more thinking about the hundred days of upset me, be only in the small pleasures of no consequence now: I went into a coffee bar, leafed through a few international journals at a booth, lingered a few windows no other purpose than to lose myself in a neutral, listened mechanically few conversations without interest, spent without reason from one street to another. I finished and found me in front of the Museum of Eros Beate Uwe where two posters announcing an exhibition of erotic objects: first, a young woman dressed very strict, very tight gray suit, turtleneck sweater, small oval glasses, showed, to a splendid male students ivory dildo, the second symmetrical, a young man, also held gray and strict, even turtlenecks, same oval glasses, showed some teenagers a chastity belt. I looked carefully to the man of the poster. Without a doubt, it was Saint-Loup.
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